Page 13 of Lillian

It’s a Saturday evening, and yet, we’ve been here all day working on drafting a proposal for a new client. The deadline is approaching fast, and it’s a big enough project that there are five of us involved to make sure nothing gets missed.

All week, we’ve been hammering out the details, fine-tuning the contract. But it’s a Saturday night, and I’m in an uncomfortable suit in the office, bored out of my fucking mind.

There are a lot of days where I love my job, don’t get me wrong. But those days never fall on the weekend.

“Let’s call it, guys. I’m fucking starving. We can finish on Monday,” I declare after Tyler takes a big breath like he’s ready to go another round. Everyone sighs, nods, and starts to pack their shit up. Even Jeremy, who technically has seniority since he’s been here longer than I have. But I’m the boss's son, and that does carry a little weight.

Not that I’m not damn good at my job. I’ve spent every waking hour for the past four years researching and networking and making myself indispensable just so nobody could say my job was handed to me.

So, while Jeremy has been here longer, I have rank. Not that the asshole gives a shit. He’s just happy to defer and let someone else call the shots. Bastard is riding out the last decade until retirement. The grin on his face as he walks toward me just solidifies how easy he takes it. Four years busting my ass, and my hair is already graying, and wrinkles line my face.

“Hey, Linc. Wanna hit up Tokyo?” Jeremy asks me, but the other three all hear and voice their agreements. He just rolls his eyes at them and raises one eyebrow at me.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I answer, not really in the mood for sushi but willing to eat Tokyo’s hibachi dinner to unwind with the guys. Workplace unity and all that bullshit.

The burly fuck slaps my back hard enough to jolt me forward as we all go to leave.

“Dick,” I mutter under my breath. His raucous laughter tells me he heard it just fine, though.

Being almost mid-spring on a weekend evening, the streets are starting to fill up a little more. People are braving the spring weather, coming out of their state of hibernation. Which means we walk in a tight group, weaving in and out of people as we make our way just a few blocks down the street to the Japanese steak and sushi house.

A few women glance in our direction as we go. Jeremy, big as he is, draws a lot of attention. He’s a decent enough-looking guy, but their gazes usually stray to Tyler and I…then stay there. Tyler eats it up. Loves the attention; craves it even. He will go out of his way to flirt with an attractive woman or lap it up if they approach him. With the number of women he brings home onthe regular, I’m truly fucking shocked this man doesn’t have an STD or a surprise kid out there somewhere.

Guess he still might.

An elbow hits my ribs. “Did you see the ass on that redhead?” Tyler groans, eyes trailing behind us to follow the redhead as long as he can.

“Yeah,” I mutter back noncommittally. Completely uninterested.

“Oh, I forgot. You like brunettes,” he goads, trying to get me to talk about my love life. The guys, anyone at the company really, have only ever seen me with brunettes. At company parties or out at a bar, I always gravitate toward the brunettes.

Anyone whotrulyknows me, though, knows I like blondes. Or rather,ablonde. And when I couldn’t have her, I started looking for her in every girl after her. Which was fucking depressing and also completely unfair to whoever I was with.

So started my brunette infatuation persona. They are safer. Less likely to remind me of the one who got away. The one Ipushedaway.

Fuck, it’s been a minute since I’ve moped over her. Now that I have, I know her memory is going to stick with me again for weeks. It always takes a long time to try to forget about her. But then, something will happen to remind me of her, and the cycle starts all over again.

“You really have to expand your horizons, man,” Tyler continues, not even needing me to join his conversation. “Nobody fucks like a redhead. They’re crazy.”

I see Jeremy shake his head from the corner of my eye. Jeremy, who has been married to the love of his life for the past fifteen years and whose wife happens to be a blonde. A gorgeous one at that. Way out of his league, but they’re head over heels for each other.

We glance at each other and share a conspiratorial eye roll as Tyler goes off on one of his tirades.

“Damn. Look at that blonde,” he hisses in a low tone, and I do. Because of course, I do. I’m a glutton for punishment.

My eyes dart right to who he nods at. An absolutely stunning woman, probably not much younger than me, walking down the street toward us. She’s got on a pair of blue jeans that show off her slightly flared hips and small waist. My dick twitches in my slacks when I get a glimpse of her ass.

Even from here, I can tell the light blue quarter zip she’s wearing brings out the color in her eyes when her head turns briefly in our direction.

Fuck, she’s…

Wait.

I know those eyes. That mane of thick blonde hair. I used to spend a lot of time with it wrapped in my fist as I drove into her–

“Lillian?” I whisper, almost to myself. I don’t even register that my feet have stopped moving until Jeremy bumps into me.

“Linc? What’s up, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he grunts and follows my line of sight. To where I haven’t stopped looking at the girl I loved and lost.

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